Tags
by MarenMary93
Summary: This is gonna be a collection of tags to episodes. There will likely be a lot of H/C and a little bit of everything else. Hope you'll enjoy!
1. 2x05 Jack falls and GSW

**Okay, so the Halloween episode was nice. And we got a little bit of hurt!Jack, although not nearly enough.  
And hey! It happened DAYS BEFORE HALLOWEEN! Trust me, falling like that, you're not up to much a few days later.  
(I'm just gonna go ahead and assume the episode aired 'real-time' and that DAYS BEFORE HALLOWEEN means 4 days before Halloween… -Anyway less than a week before Halloween…) –rant over-**

Jack was afraid to pull a breath when he finally came to a stop. Something would certainly start aching as soon as he did. He had done shit like this before, and it always started to hurt after a few seconds. The tree he fell down from at seven, the bulls that had bucked him off real good, the one incident with the water tower. Unwillingly falling more than your own height always hurt, and there had to be like a thousand feet up to that rectangular box of light.

Finally forcing a breath he winced. It wasn't as bad as he had imagined. He had felt worse, far worse. He would definitely be sore for a week or two, but it didn't feel like he had done any real damage.

"Jack, you okay?" Mac's voice was urgent, worried.

He exhaled and let his arms move to test whether it would hurt like a motherf***** or not, before croaking out "Whaddaya think? I just fell like a thousand feet!"

"-Give or take 980, but yeah…"

Okay, maybe it wasn't like a thousand feet, probably not even twenty if Mac thought it was twenty. If Jack calculated in Mac's fear of heights it was probably more like fifteen or so. –If he really had to guess.

Moving hurt a lot, but with every second it got a little better. He rolled over and started crawling, gradually morphing from a crawling to a standing position.

And of course his shitty flashlight was flickering. He gave it a few smacks until it provided him with a steady beam of light, then he swept the light across the room.

It landed on the ugliest mug he had ever seen. Jack punched instinctively and wondered who had screamed. He let the beam of the flashlight run all over the room, then realizing he was alone and that the ugly mug belonged to a punching doll he understood that he was the one who had screamed.

"…Jack?"

"Are you finding anything interesting down there?" Right, Cage was with them too. He had almost forgotten about that.

"Nope. Nope-nope-not… There's just an old combat training room, -nothing."

"Errr… Well, do you see anything down there that can help you get back up?"

"No. Not, not a ladder… Nothing I trust to support my weight, -anything like that…" he answered as he scanned the room, this time a little more relaxed. Then he noticed how frigid it was, "Jeez! It's kinda, kinda cold down here!"

It was kinda soothing, actually. The cold temperature was calming the warm feeling of bruises forming over big areas of his body, namely his right shoulder and side.

"Wait, Jack… That's it! That's uh… Stone floors? Cold?"

"Yeah-yeah!" Jack nodded, that was exactly what it was.

He could hear Mac and Cage share a few words he couldn't quite catch. Then Mac's voice became a little louder and more directed at him, "Hey, is my antenna down there?"

Laughing Jack picked up the remains of the said antenna, "Yeah… And it's in about a thousand pieces homie… You're gonna have to figure out another way to track Wheeler."

"Yeah, sit tight. I have a plan but I've gonna have to go to the radio tower to get supplies?"

Did he just hear what he thought he heard? "SIT TIGHT? NO MAN! HEY-HEY-HEY! I AIN'T SITTING TIGHT NOWHERE! –LISTEN, WE TALKED ABOUT THIS, WE SWORE THERE WAS GONNA BE NO SPLITING UP NOW!

"Hey, look… We're all leaving here together. I promise. But for now I've gotta go. You know what? While you're down there, why don't you poke around, see if you can find a trace of Wheeler, or his team."

"Yeah. Yeah alright, go on… But I guarantee you, I'm the first one who gets it…" Jack sighed as he tried to get his flashlight to work better, the fall hadn't been all that good to it either.

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They had found Cage, and Mac was working on getting her out of the chamber.

He himself on the other hand was running towards the heat signature Riley had pointed out for him.

His body was painful, but it was still warm, his injuries hadn't seized up yet.

Okay, his shoulder. His shoulder was probably gonna be the worst when this whole thing settled. Or his elbow. His elbow could also turn out pretty bad. –He was pretty sure that it was his elbow's fault that his shoulder felt like it did.

He was a little fuzzy on the details, but he was almost certain that his elbow was what had connected with the ground first, or at least at the same time as his feet. Thinking about it, his shoulder _should_ have dislocated. Falling and landing on your backside, with your elbow as the first point of contact –behind you no less- should easily knock his shoulder out.  
Luckily it was just on route to being sore as hell. Nothing a little ice and rest wouldn't take care of.

One thing he was truly thankful for though, was that he had managed to avoid landing on his right hand, because that wrist wasn't able to stand what it used to. And he wanted to avoid another wrist surgery for as long as possible.

He inhaled sharply as one of the strides he took sent an electric current through his left ankle. Okay. He could pretty much just settle for guessing that his whole damn body would hurt like a horror movie come tomorrow morning. He pushed all the pains and aches to the back of his mind and kept on running through the jungle-esque forest.

"Jack! She should be right in front of you!

With that in mind, he picked up his speed another notch. Seeing his target he launched himself towards her, tackling her to the ground.

With his right arm drawn back, ready to knock that bad news woman out, he stalled when he saw that not everything was as he thought it should be. "COMMANDER WHEELER?"

Quickly he helped the commander free from his gag, allowing the man to breathe through his mouth and speak freely.

"Watch out- she used me to draw you out! She's planning…"

"Hey-hey…"

"-She's tracking me." The commander swallowed quickly, "She's tracking me right NOW!"

The sound of a slide being drawn made Jack reach for his own pistol as he started to turn around to face his new target.

Before he was able to zero in on her, and this time it really was HER, it was like his arm or shoulder came in contact with something hot. The most natural response had him spinning on his heels, away from the discomfort. Which unfortunately also meant down from the plateau they were on.

He somehow managed to have his feet touch the ground first, like a freaking cat. Then without absorbing much of the impact, he managed to roll in the easiest direction. Unfortunately for him that was half-backwards, half to the right. The side that was already sore, and if he wasn't mistaken, -had just been hit with a round.

For a split second it only felt like someone had punched him real hard. But he knew that wasn't the truth. Then his arm felt sorta paralyzed, like that feeling you get in your legs if you sit on the toilet for too long, and you know walking is gonna be an experience in itself. (damn cellphone games…)

As that feeling faded, it replaced itself with pain and the notion that his arm weighed a freaking literal ton. But he had to get up to that ledge over the one he landed on. He couldn't stay here.

One handed, he managed to climb the seven or eight feet he needed to get up. Every little move seemed to rip through his shoulder as he rolled himself onto the relative safety of the bigger ledge which actually proved to be an old overgrown road.

Growling and gasping he reached for his right shoulder. In a hope that he would feel a bullet stuck in his vest. He already knew it hadn't stopped there, if it had even hit the vest in the first place. He pressed his hand against his chest, not even daring to touch the epicenter of the pain.

Letting out an extra grunt, he staggered to his feet. He needed to get going, find cover. Real cover.

With his arm held as still as the situation would allow him, he started jogging towards one of the buildings he saw. Hopefully he would find a place to hide there. Hunker up and be ready to shoot her when she came for him.

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He was slower than he used to, he could feel her being right behind him. Like a creepy shadow.

He managed to get the door open and stepped inside. He jogged, if you could even call it that, towards some old oil barrels or something. His upper right side was blindingly painful, his right arm basically useless.

He wanted so bad to just let a scream rip from his lungs, possibly followed by an impressive string of curses. But he could hear her entering the building as well. He needed to keep a lid on it, needed to stay quiet. No matter how much it hurt.

He tried to be good, tried to apply pressure to the wound. But it was too painful. He settled for supporting his right shoulder instead. It would do. It would have to do… Besides, it didn't look like the bullet had hit any big veins or arteries even though he was getting awfully light headed.

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"YOU SURVIVED THAT FALL! I'M IMPRESSED!" Damn, she sounded closer than he had thought. He had to move.

Grimacing he hurried, as much as his tormented body would allow him to hurry, towards another pile of barrels. For a small second he feared he would black out.

He took a deep breath, collecting himself, before he scrambled the last four yards to his new hideout.

Quickly allowing himself a brief look of his injury, he grimaced even harder. Blood was oozing from the small tear in his shirt. His left hand was smeared with blood from trying to press against his right shoulder. His right hand was dripping with blood. This was bad. Real bad.

He let his head fall back against one of the barrels. Although not a praying man, he sent up a brief prayer, hoping for either relief or salvation. Salvation from her that was.

"I'M GONNA MAKE YOU A DEAL, YOU LET ME TAKE YOUR PLANE AND FLY AWAY WITH COMMANDER WHEELER, AND I WON'T PAINT THE WALLS WITH YOUR BLOOD!"

"COUNTER OFFER: WHEELER STAYS WITH ME AND YOU TAKE OFF! I'LL SEE IF I CAN CATCH YOU A DEAL WITH THE CIA!"

"SORRY. NO CAN DO!" there was too much joy in her voice for Jack's liking. "I KINDA NEED WHEELER IF I'M GONNA PUT HIM UP FOR AUCTION. I'VE GOT A LOT OF… WELL, CALL THEM FRIENDS WHO WILL PAY GOOD MONEY TO GET THEIR HANDS ON A VISE PRESIDENT'S SON."

Jack studied the wound on his shoulder. It would have been fascinating if it didn't hurt that damn much. Looking up again, his eyes landed on an EXIT door. Just what he needed.

"DON'T LIE TO ME, WE BOTH KNOW YOU AIN'T GOT NO FRIENDS!" he yelled before dashing towards the door.

Only problem. The door proved to be locked. Well fuck…

"OH NO! LOOKS LIKE OUR LITTLE GAME OF HIDE AND SEEK HAS COME TO AN END!"

Knowing that there was no other escape, he reluctantly stepped towards her. If he was gonna get shot, again, he would rather take one in the chest than in the back.

Suddenly her gun flew out of her hand. Then she seized up, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull and she lifted off the ground. Kinda like that one chick in one of the X-men movies. At least that was the movies he thought that belonged to. Just as suddenly she was pulled back towards the old trailer standing in the back, collecting decades of dust.

Jack couldn't believe what he was seeing. It had to be some sort of miracle. Had to be.

He hit his knees and started crossing his chest. He didn't really catch what he was saying, it just came out of his mouth, like a reflex. Then he thought better and drew a triangle instead. He was in the Bermuda triangle after all. It was probably some sorts of crazy Bermuda spirits or something.

Then. Laughter.?

Jack sobered up a little bit as Mac stumbled forward, laughing and clapping his hands. "A little dramatic…"

"Mac?"

"Yeah…"

"Did you develop the powers of a mystical wizard or something?"

"Oh no… Nothing that cool, I read in her file that she had a metal plate in her head and, and wires in her jaw, and a titanium shoulder. So… I built a big-ass electro magnet." Mac explained as he gestured to the magnet.

"Huh? Really?" Jack had known the kid for almost a decade now, and that ginormous brain still impressed him.

"Yeah…" Mac nodded like it was basically nothing, "Who's your boy?"

"You are man…" Jack smiled, before Mac grabbed a hold under his left armpit and helped him painfully to his feet. His body protested loudly. "You are… But I'll tell you what. Whatever's going on in that crazy head of yours is way scarier than the Bermuda triangle any day of the week son…"

"Are you crying?"

Heck yes he was crying. Crying was almost mandatory when you had been shot and fallen down a collective of about 40-50 feet in one day. But still, he couldn't admit to that. "No-no man… I'm… I'm just tired…"

"Okay, let's get you some medical attention…"

Medical attention actually sounded like a sweet plan. Just what he needed. He wouldn't even threaten to knock anyone out if they offered him a syringe with anything that would knock him out.

 **Okay, I'm gonna leave this here. Might come back to make another tag for this later. Like a aftermath tag or something. I feel like they stole at least a few scenes with Jack and a sling from us. Just saying…**


	2. 2x05 Flight back home

**Okay, so y'all liked the other one? Great. Here's what happened afterwards.**

"Do you need anything Jack?" Riley asked as she kneeled down beside the older man.

He shook his head, "Nah… 'M good…"

The fact that his shirt was thorn open revealing a big square dressing which was gradually becoming more and more red wasn't mentioned. Or the fact that his right arm was firmly tied to his chest with a couple of triangular bandages. His left hand was covering his right one, gently attempting to rub out some tension from his wrist and hand.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, just gonna need a little peace and quiet…" he drawled, his Texan accent thicker than usual.

"Okay, I'll head back to Mac and the others…" Riley nodded, but stopped moving when she saw Jack shake his head.

"Not what I meant…" he shook his head gently, "I meant, my shoulder's gonna need a little peace and quiet… Just stay…"

"Okay…" Riley answered with a smile and sat back down against the bench that acted as a temporary bed for Jack. "How are you feeling tough guy?"

"Great… A little sore…" Jack answered, trying to lighten the mood. He knew that Riley worried for him, you didn't have to be a Mac-level genius to understand that much. "Gonna be just fine in a couple of weeks…"

"Jack…"

Jack hummed his acknowledgement, and let Riley finish what she was about to say.

"You're lying…"

"Yeah, I'm lying on a piss-poor excuse of a bed…" Jack nodded, almost earning himself a shove in the shoulder from Riley, but she stopped herself before she got to that point. Luckily for him.

"Are you sure you don't need something for a pillow? Maybe something to use as a blanket?"

"It's a little chilly here…" Jack admitted.

Riley nodded, "I'll see if I can do something about it. It's probably got something to do with all the blood you left back on Goat island…"

Jack offered her a weak smile as she stood up, "Got plenty left…"

Riley nodded again, "That might be, but it would have been better if you still had all of it inside your body…"

"Yeah, I don't have that kind of luxury today…" Jack winked at her as she headed off to find something to give Jack in place of a blanket.

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She came back a couple of minutes later with Bozer's zipper hoodie, one of the medic's sweater, Mac's leather jacket (which had been on the plane all along). She quickly placed all of it on top of Jack and spread it out, similarly to a mother tucking in a child. Then she headed to the back of the plane and found the bag she had left on the plane for after the mission. She took out a thin, worn, fleece blanket and a wool undershirt before she shouldered the bag and returned to Jack.

"Are your feet cold?"

"No…" Jack shook his head, "But my hands are freezing…"

"Okay, then we do something about that…" Riley nodded as she lifted Mac's jacket off of him. She moved his left hand next to his right one and then she wrapped her wool shirt around his hands. She draped the blanket over him and topped it all with Mac's leather jacket once again.

Then carefully, very carefully, she slid her own hands in under all of it and found Jack's hands. They were cold to the touch, and probably felt even colder to Jack. She smiled at the content little sigh Jack let out as her warm hands met his cold ones. "What did you do? Stick these in the freezer?"

Jack chuckled, "Sure feels like I did…"

She kneaded his hands for a few moments, then she went on to wrap her hands around his wrists as far as they would go anyway. Her hands were a little too small to actually wrap fully around his wrists.

"What's that?" she asked as she felt something strange under the fingers and palm of one of her hands.

Jack looked down, but he didn't see anything as everything was covered with things to keep him warm. "On my wrist?"

Riley nodded with a worried frown.

"That's scars."

"Scars?" Riley repeated, "I haven't seen any scars on your wrist…"

"Well…" Jack took a deep breath, "It's usually covered by the wrist cuff… But that got really bloody, so I got Mac to take it and rinse off it a little bit. And I don't think I'll be needing it before my shoulder has been taken care of…"

Riley nodded, "Do you mind if I take a look?"

"My arm is full of crusted and dried blood right now. Don't you want to wait instead?"

"I'm curious right now."

"Go ahead then, but it might look worse with all that caked blood…"

"There's not all that much left that'll make me cringe anymore. That train left the station when I was covered in someone else's blood a few months back…"

"-Yeah. Sorry 'bout that…"

"Why, it wasn't your fault…"

"It was." Jack cleared his voice before he continued, "I was the one who left you there alone. And you wouldn't even be in that whole mess if I hadn't told Patty about you and your skills in the first place!"

"Not your fault…" Riley said once more, "And I thought we were blaming Cairo day for that…"

"Yeah… Totally Cairo-day's fault for that one. But a man still feels guilty for bringing stuff like that on to someone he cares about."

Riley smiled and squeezed Jack's wrists a little, before removing one hand to uncover Jack's right wrist.

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Riley felt a knot form in her stomach as she unveiled Jack's bare right wrist. There was a broad, raised, welt-like scar running down the middle just above his wrist, right between the radius and ulna. Right beside it, a little bit more towards the pinky finger side of his wrist, there was another scar. But this one was more of a crevasse. A deep furrow, almost 1/10 of an inch ran parallel to the thick protruding scar.

She gently ran her fingers over the two first scars. Then she brought her fingers over to a thin white line running from the base of his thumb and all the way up to the second edge of the tan line Jack had around his wrist from the cuff. She hadn't noticed that scar before even though she had secretly studied his hands many times.

"What happened there?"

"Same as most of the others… Attempts to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. That one's from the first big surgery. Don't really know what they did in there, but I wore a cast for 14 weeks afterwards. My thumb is pretty much all good though."

"Pretty much?"

"Yeah, acts up whenever the rest of the wrist acts up badly, and grip strength ain't what it used to be…" Jack drawled as he tilted his head to look down at the scar. "There's more scars on the inside of my wrist…"

"How did it get like this?"

"There's a lot of reasons, really. Broke my wrist a few times growing up. I was an active kid. Then there was the time I landed really badly on it when a horse bucked me off, it wasn't even at a rodeo… And back in the sandbox, back when I was still only with the Delta I had a tiny piece of metal go through my wrist…"

"A bullet?"

"Nah, a little bigger than so, you know those three-sided rulers?"

"Draft rulers?"

"Jeez… You're old enough to know of them? No… I mean the ones that go like this…" Jack answered as he drew the form in the air with his left hand.

"Triangle ruler…"

"I guess…" Jack nodded, "A piece of metal, roughly that size, just pointier… Like if you fold the short side…"

"Are we talking the small ones, or the big ones…?"

"The ones where the straight, long side is about 10 inches…"

"Technically all the sides are straight…" Riley smirked.

"You're spending too much time with the Brainiac…" Jack scrounged up his nose, "You know what I meant, the long side from the straight _edge_ …"

Riley nodded, "Yeah, I knew what you meant. But I just had to tease you a bit. And just to be clear, that doesn't qualify as a 'tiny piece of metal' that's a large piece."

"Okay, a large piece of metal then…" Jack nodded.

"Did you have all those scars back when you lived with us?"

"I had some. But it's really just turned into a blur when I got them and all that."

Riley nodded and covered Jack's upper body again and stuck her hands back in to warm up his hands and wrists.

"Why haven't you told us about this?"

"Same reason Cage won't tell us her fears. I don't like broadcasting my weaknesses." Jack winked, "But hey, it's no big deal…"

"The wrist cuff…" Riley started, "Is it just to hide most of the scars, or is it for support too?"

"Honestly, it's mostly for support." Jack sighed, "You see, the bones near my wrist have been messed up so many times that it's no surprise it aches from time to time, but the real problem is the tendons and stuff. Soft tissue you know."

Riley nodded.

"Main reason for the cuff is to make sure the bones in my forearm doesn't shift away from each other…"

"Wait, they can do that?" Riley frowned.

"Yeah, when you've torn the thing that is tying them together, they can…"

"That sounds like all sorts of no fun…"

"You're right about that." Jack nodded, "I haven't really dislocated my wristbecause of that, but I've almost done it a lot of times. You know that thing where you have a dislocation, but it's not a complete dislocation. While doing ordinary everyday tasks, so that's the reason why I ALWAYS wear the thing."

"Subluxation?"

"Yeah, I think that was the word…"

"Everyday tasks?"

"Yeah, like playing sports and just living like a regular human."

"Okay, so active things?"

"No… The most embarrassing one was when I tried to lift an empty pot out of the dishwasher. I've never felt older, or more useless." Jack explained as he made eye contact with Riley, who was currently biting her lip not to laugh, "Don't laugh!"

"I'm trying not to!" Riley chuckled, "I'm just picturing you being taken out by a pot, that's all…"

"I don't really see the fun in that…"

"Big, strong, Jack-freaking-Dalton versus a kitchen utensil?" Riley cocked a brow.

"Okay. Maybe you're right…" Jack smiled, "It was pretty pathetic…"

"Something like that…" Riley nodded, "But for now you need some rest, no big macho show offs…"

"Oh, don't worry…" Jack frowned, "I won't be up to that for some time…"

"And no fighting with pans or pots either…"

"To be fair, it started it…" Jack grinned.

"Sure it did…"

"Shut up…" Jack chuckled and smiled.

 **Okay, we'll see how many tags I end up with for episode 2x05. I mean, that episode needs tags. Loads of em…**

Hope you enjoyed!


	3. 2x12 'Before I go home forever'

**Okay, so… I loved the last episode in general, but I know I'm not alone in thinking that at least one of the flashback scenes was a little OOC for our man Jack.  
I just had to try and fix it. **

_Just 14 more days in this hell hole, then I go home for good._

He planned on going home for good. Never set his foot in a sandy desert with hostiles everywhere ever again. He had had enough of all this crap. Seen enough, survived enough, had enough sand rammed into every orifice he could think of enough times to know that he would never ever again place himself in a position to have that much sand around him ever again. –Unless it was on a beach and he was wearing board shorts…

Nope. He was done after this time. No more re-enlistments. No more endless days of being somewhere you could catch a bullet or shrapnel at any given moment. He was done. Out. Retired.  
As soon as the clock hit 0800 Tuesday in two weeks, he was DONE. Capital letters and all. His sweet ass would be on a plane headed home to the best state of them all. Texas.

It wouldn't be like the last time. No. –Of course.  
He HAD been DONE that time too. Done with everything this career meant. But then about two weeks after he had gotten home, a news report on the TV had managed to guilt trip him enough to call his old captain. And then he was back in the sandbox. No. This time wouldn't be like that time.

He vividly remembered the first time he had tried saying 'sayonara' to this professional life. He had gotten home, about two months later he was so bored that he had to go back.

Another time it had been because one of his team members had his whole future changed, and Jack felt guilty for just quitting when one of his friends just didn't have a choice.

Okay, maybe he wasn't the best when it came to quitting. He had planned on quitting after every tour since the early 90s, and it was 2011 now. That was about 20 years as far as his mathematical skills would take him.

But this time would be different. There wasn't a thing in this world that would possess him to sign up for another time this time around. No. DONE.

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Two weeks later when he was just about ready to sit down inside the large plane that would take him back to the United States of America he dug his left hand into his pocket to get a stick of gum before takeoff.

"Awww… What the hell…" he sighed as he eyed the stick. "Hey, Major! I'm staying here!"

"You sure Sergeant?" the Major raised an eyebrow, "You've barely spoken of anything else than 'this is your last damn tour' and 'you're going home forever after this' for the last two months…"

"Yeah… Well…" Jack dragged out the words. "Y'know me Major…"

"Of course I do…" the other man nodded, "We haven't filed your retirement papers yet."

"You haven't?" Jack chuckled, "Really?"

"Some people get stop-loss'd, while you do it to yourself every damn time. At least for the years I've known you." the Major smirked, then he rolled his eyes, "I'll make sure the military knows you won't be on this plane when it lands. Just a little extra paperwork."

"Thanks man."

"You owe me one, Dalton." the Major winked, "You know how much I hate paperwork."

"I'll get someone back home send some good stuff your way, m'kay?"

"Good thinking, you're a lost cause anyway…"

"That's why y'all like me so much…"

"You go on believing that." the Major nodded.

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"What kinda name is 'Angus'?"

"Jack?"

"In the flesh…"

"I thought you went home…"

"Well, almost did… Funny thing, there I was, boarding my transport. Just 15 hours between me and the great state of Texas… And then it hits me, that poor little bomb nerd with the silly hamburger name ain't gonna make it two days in the sandbox without me watching his back. So, turned around, walked off that plane and signed up for another tour. –Under the condition that I'm paired with you, off course. And before you go getting big headed. I didn't do it for you, I did it for my country. I've got a sneaky suspicion that you're a little too valuable to Uncle Sam to lose just yet."

They both smiled subtly before Mac spoke up, "Well thanks man! And here we go!"

"Yeah…" Jack nodded "Here we go…"

Extending his fist towards Mac, he awaited the first fist bump of many in what would turn out to be a beautiful bromance lasting a lifetime.

They both broke out laughing before Mac turned the ignition and they headed out to work.

 **Hope you enjoyed this! Have a great day!**


	4. 2x13 Jack, Jimmy, High School Reunion

**Okay, let's have some fun with Jack's reunion. I kinda promised y'all a tag to that in the last chapter of 'Domestic' I posted.**  
 **Hope you'll enjoy this little thing.**

 _Oh lord. It was him. He was actually there this time around. Suddenly he wasn't too cool to go to the class reunion. The guy he had tried so hard to measure up to all through high school, yet never really succeeded. He had never managed to be so effortlessly cool._

"Dalton!" he called out. The man froze, then turned around to face him.

"…Jimmy."

"Hey man! Bring it in, brother. Bring it in!" Jimmy took the liberty to steal a hug, bro-patting Jack on the back for the duration of it. "How are you doing? You look good."

"I'm good yeah, I'm good. Thanks, it's been a long time!"

"Yeah-yeah-yeah… Can you believe this? Huh?" Jimmy smiled and glanced around the room, "Together again, just like nothing's changed."

The coolest guy in school nodded briefly at what he had just said, and Jimmy felt a pang of pride inside his chest. Because this was just like the good old days when he had hung around with Jack and Boxer and the other cool guys. To be honest, he knew he hadn't been in the inner circle of that gang, but they allowed him to hang around and that was cooler than he had ever felt.

"How you… -How've you been?"

"Oh, great man. Great thanks for asking." Then it was on to the old summary of his life that he'd been performing all day long, with just about all their other classmates. He even showed the pictured of Jimmy jr and his little Melanie. "-No complaints at all… What about you Dalton? Where has life taken you?"

Jimmy almost regretted the question when he saw that it suddenly looked like Jack was uncomfortable in his own skin. Maybe the highlights of his last couple of years had been a little too gloating. Maybe it was mean? He hadn't thought about that before right this second. And his wife, technically he hadn't needed to add that either. Maybe Jack was recently divorced, or worse. What if he'd just lost his wife or girlfriend, or kid. Lord, why did he mention his kids?

The pause felt like it stretched on for minutes and Jimmy just wanted to take all he had just proudly rattled off about his life back.

Jack finally took a deep breath and leaned in closer to him. The with a controlled voice and hard eyes he started, "I'm a highly trained government operative, who's fought terrorism on multiple continents and saved the world over a dozen times."

For a second his brain believed it all, just because of the chilling way Jack said it. He first snapped out of it when Jack raised his eyebrows as if to say 'I got you good!'. It took him an extra second or so before he dared to laugh. Clapping his hands and mimicking a spy shooting targets, he laughed a bit more.

"Get in here, man!" he chuckled and went in for another hug, "That's you! There he is, there he is! The old class clown! That's great, I love that! I love that, man!"

They both chuckled and enjoyed the joke for a few seconds.

 _How could Jack Dalton be so effortlessly cool? How could he be the guy every girl loved and every guy wanted to be? How was he still that person?_

"-No, but seriously… How's the bathroom tiles biz?" Jimmy asked, ready to offer Jack a job if it was going slow.

Jack shook his head for a short second as if to reset his mind and answer the question without having it colored by the previous joke. "It's great. Going great. We've had a 15 percent increase in sales after we moved location on our main store last year." Jack nodded, "So everything's going just great."

"That's great to hear man!" Jimmy nodded, _okay, so Jack didn't need a new job, not now at least._ "It's great to hear things are good for you too!"

Jack nodded confidently, "Yeah, everything's going great… Hey, good catching up, but I see Boxer over there and I need to have a couple of words with him before I forget it."

Jimmy nodded, "Yeah, okay. Good. Hey, let's try to stay in contact. It's been too long."

Jack nodded again, "Yeah, that sounds great."

 _Effortlessly cool. How could anyone be that great. That cool, that friendly, that great of a person…  
Jimmy had always wanted to be just like him…_

 **Okay, there. I made it.  
I just had to! Hope you had fun reading it though…**


	5. 2x16 Jack threw out shoulder, 5th grade

_"Look, I've been throwing this shoulder out since 5_ _th_ _grade, I'm barely gonna feel it! Now stop being a nervous Nellie and just-"_

 **That line just demands a tag. So, dear writers… Please write tags…**

The first time, spring-5th grade

"Bet ya you can't climb the water tower…" Boxer challenged as he let himself fall back on the bar he was sitting on, ending up dangling from his knees –upside down.

"All the way to the top?"

"Of course…" Ricky chuckled.

"At least up to the railing…" Boxer nodded from where he still hung upside down, "Don't think you can reach the top of it…"

"Bet you I can!" Jack stepped back and looked towards the top of the water tower.

"It's pretty high, Jack…" Nick frowned, "Ma will tan your hide if you end up getting hurt."

"Nah, I won't get hurt…" Jack shrugged, "It's only climbing."

"You really think it's a good idea?" Nick, the more cautious twin asked.

"It could be fun…" Jack grinned with a wild light in his eyes, "How much do I get?"

"Except broken bones?" Nick questioned, gazing up at the railing that went around the tank itself.

"Climbing it without getting a ladder or anything will give you…" Boxer paused as he started thinking, "It will give you bragging rights, five bucks from me…"

Boxer looked over at Ricky who shrugged, "Another five from me, and the right to go first on the swing rope all summer long…"

Jack smirked. Okay, he was climbing that thing.

"You're not getting anything from me…" Nick shook his head, "It's crazy, it's too high and not an easy climb!"

"I don't need anything from you, little brother…" Jack teased, knowing full well that his twin hated being called the 'little brother'.

"You're going to fall down and hurt yourself!"

"Have a little faith!" Jack chuckled as he rolled up his sleeves and stepped towards the water tower.

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It wasn't an easy climb, that was for sure. There were places he barely reached the next hold when he stretched as long as he could. But that was mostly close to the bottom of the tower.

He had just laid one hand on the railing when he met it. It was black and yellow. Angry and feisty as only a wasp can be. It darted straight at him.

He tried swatting it away with his right hand, the one he didn't have wrapped around the railing, only to find that the little sucker was persistent. And that it had about 50 friends in backup.

He HATED wasps. Bees were alright, they had use… But wasps? Wasps were just plain annoying, on every level. And getting stung by 'em hurt bad.

And it still did! He let out a sharp little shout as one of the wasps drove it's stinger into the back of his left hand. He swatted it, making sure at least that wasp wasn't going to sting him ever again.

That was another reason bees were a lot cooler than wasps. Bees were kamikaze pilots. If they stung you, they basically committed suicide. You got your revenge on the insect without ever doing anything.  
Wasps? Wasps could sting you as many times they liked, or that was what he had heard at least.

Another wasp got a little too close to his face, and Jack tried swatting it away. It came back angrier, and the whole little swarm seemed to pick up on its anger.

Jack swatted left and right, all while trying to find a new handhold to climb back down.

Just as he swatted away a few that tried to go for his face, a wasp sank its stinger into his right forearm.

He only realized his mistake when it was too late. Instinct had told him to swat away what was causing him pain, and his brain hadn't worked fast enough to make sure he held on to the water tower with his left. And once he let go, gravity only worked one way.

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Nick, Boxer and Ricky all watched in horror as Jack fell with a cry.

The two or three seconds of total silence after Jack had impacted with the ground was unnerving, it made them all freeze solid. None of them able to hurry over to check Jack out.

Not before he started crying. If he was crying, he was alive.

Boxer was the first one able to move. He sprinted over the short distance and slid in on his knees the last few feet.

"Are you hurt?" a sorta stupid question considering that he saw that Jack's left arm was twisted in a very untraditional angle.

The only answer he got was a nod.

"Want one of us to get Ma or Pa?"

Jack shook his head.

"You sure?" he almost couldn't believe Jack's answer. There was no way they were fixing this on their own. This obviously wasn't just a scratch or a bruise. This was broken or something. "I'm pretty sure you broke your arm… Sure you don't want Ricky to head over and get Pa to pick us up?"

Jack nodded, the fingers of his right hand reaching up towards his shoulder.

Boxer watched with sympathy, "Anything I can do?"

Jack shook his head.

"There's gotta be something…" Boxer wasn't quite sure who he talked to as he looked around, to Jack or himself. "You're dead-set on none of us getting any grown ups?"

Jack nodded, again.

"What about Ricky's older brother? He has a car."

This time there was a longer pause, where Boxer figured that Jack actually considered the offer, then he shook his head.

"How is he doing?" it was Nick, he was closer now but still not ready to come all the way over.

"Think he broke his arm!" Boxer called over his shoulder, "Looks that way!"

"He's alive?" this time it was Ricky.

"HE'S CRYING! OF COURSE HE'S ALIVE!" Boxer snapped back before he could stop himself. Then he returned his focus to Jack, "Please, just let Rick go get someone… You're not going to be able to bike back…"

Jack was starting to shake his head, but then he froze and nodded instead.

"Okay, who?"

In between sobs Jack locked eyes with Boxer, "Jerry."

"Jerry?" Boxer repeated, "At dad's farm?"

Jack nodded.

"Okay…" Boxer nodded and twisted around to talk to Ricky. "Rick! Go get Jerry!"

"The farmhand?"

"Who else?"

"I don't know…"

"Well, hurry!" Boxer barked with annoyance, and Jerry nodded and jogged for his bike.

Jerry had helped out at the farm Boxer's dad had since he was 13. He was about ten years older than the boys and had taught them a lot of fun tricks and skills through the years. Like handstands when they were five and how to make a pebble go twice as long when you tossed it. Important stuff like that.

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"Are you hurt anywhere else than your arm?"

"no…" Jack sniffled, trying not to cry.

"Okay, that's good…" Boxer nodded to himself, as Nick finally made it all the way over to them.

"Aw man… That looks bad…" Nick frowned, earning himself a shove from Boxer. "What happened?"

"Wasps." Jack hiccupped, a grimace cementing itself on his face.

"Did you get stung?" Nick frowned.

Jack nodded.

"Good thing you're not Ricky then…" Boxer shrugged, "Or you'd be in real trouble right now."

Jack nodded feebly, "Feels like I'm in real trouble already… What's my arm doin'?"

Boxer shrugged as he tried to find a nice way to put it.

"It's twisted." Nick beat him to the punch.

"Yeah, twisted…" Boxer nodded, it was an okay way to describe it. Not too gross, and yet it covered everything. "Twisted."

Jack still hadn't dared to look towards the source of his pain, in fear that it looked awful.

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It took about half an hour before Ricky returned with Jerry, and Jerry's pickup truck. Before that happened, Jack had managed to calm all the way down, just letting out a few whimpers when he accidentally jostled his shoulder.

"Hey there kid…" Jerry's warm and friendly voice said as the short man made it over to him, flashing a grimace when he saw the odd way Jack's left arm was laid, "You fell from up there?"

Jack nodded.

"That's high up…" he noted as his frown deepened, "What were you doing up there in the first place?"

"Climbing…" Jack admitted in a guilty tone, his eyes darting away from Jerry.

"Okay, not the smartest thing you've ever done…" he sighed, "How's your neck?"

"Fine."

"Back?"

"Fine."

"Did you hit your head?"

"No…" Jack shook his head, "Only hurt my arm…"

"Alright, I'm gonna scoop you up and carry you to the truck, then we can get you to the doctor." Seeing as fear flashed past Jack's eyes, Jerry shrugged apologetically, "You really need that arm checked out. It's either broken or your shoulder's dislocated. And falling from all the way up there, we better make sure you're not bleeding on the inside too…"

"But…"

"Look, if you can fight me off, I'll back off… But unless you're up for that, you're going to the doctor young man…"

Jack didn't even protest when Jerry slid his arms under his knees and back.

"Box, can you help him with his arm?" Jerry asked, locking eyes with Boxer.

Boxer nodded and they both lifted him, causing Jack to once again start sobbing.

"Hey…" Jerry murmured, "I'm so sorry kiddo… It'll get better soon, I promise."

When they reached the truck, Jerry instructed Boxer to climb in first and sit in the middle of the bench seat, then he slid Jack in after him.

Turning to the two other kids, Nick and Ricky, he cleared his voice. "Look, if you want you can hop on the back. There's room for both of you and the bikes. I'll drop you off at the farm if you want to…"

The two of them went to grab their bikes and rolled them over to the truck, Jerry grabbed the two others that were Jack and Boxer's bikes, he lifted all four bikes into the back and nodded at the two kids that had climbed in the bed of the truck. "Alright, you know the rules. Hang on-"

"And don't stand up…" Ricky nodded.

"Good."

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Hours later, Caroline opened the door as Jerry returned with Jack and Boxer. He had called her and explained where Jack was and what kind of injury the kid had. The part about how he had gotten injured he left out for the kids to explain, he knew they probably would end up telling a watered down story, and he was alright with that. These kids caused their parents enough grief as it was.

 **Okay, so… I almost plan on making more tags to this particular episode/line, But I'll settle for the first time in this chapter. Hope you enjoyed.**


	6. 2x16 Jack's left shoulder HighSchool

**Okay so… Still the same sentence. Using it as a prompt again.**

 _"Look, I've been throwing this shoulder out since 5_ _th_ _grade, I'm barely gonna feel it! Now stop being a nervous Nellie and just-"_

 **Let's go!**

Some time during high school

Mr. Casey looked out over the class, he was going through the class list and got to the first person he always wondered if bothered to show up for class.

"Jack Dalton?"

Silence.

He repeated, his eyes darting to Jack's seat. It was empty, but still he said Jack's name another time.

No answer.

"Okay, not here. Next one, Nick Dalton?

No answer either. That was more unusual. He looked back up as he repeated Nick's name. Finding the empty seat with his eyes he raised his eyebrows and marked it down in his book.

"Anyone know where they are? Claude?" he asked and looked towards Boxer who had the neighboring seat to where Jack would have been.

"Not a clue…" Boxer shrugged, "Waited for 'em for ten minutes by the mailboxes… Figured they could take either Jack's or Nicky's truck here if they were running late…"

Mr. Casey nodded and went on with his list. "Samantha Ericson?"

"Here…"

He marked it down and kept on reading the list.

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Just as he finished the list, the door opened. Nick, he guessed based on the way he walked and presented himself, walked in with a backpack over each shoulder.

A few steps behind Jack, obviously, followed. He had his head hung, and his left arm nestled in a sling. By his left shoulder, hidden under his clothes, there was a pad of something. Most likely an icepack.

"What happened?" Claude, or Box as his classmates called him, beat him to the question.

"Threw my shoulder out…" Jack groaned.

"When? How?"

"This one's good, I promise…" Nick chuckled.

"Shut up…" Jack scowled at his twin, "It's painful, alright? Not funny. At all…"

"You didn't see it…" Nick shrugged.

"Guys, what happened."

"I fell down the stairs…"

"Ow…"

"But that's not how he dislocated his shoulder…" Nick chuckled, "But it was hilarious though…"

"Shut up…"

"What happened?"

"He opened a cupboard door."

"Huh?"

"I obviously did something to my shoulder in the fall, alright…?" Jack groaned.

"A cupboard?"

"Yeah…" Nick chuckled, "I've never seen someone injure themselves in a more pathetic way."

"Shut up, alright?"

"Really Wyatt?" Boxer chuckled, "Only you could do that…"

"Shut up…" Jack growled again, "Y'all know my shoulder is trash…"

"Exactly… It's been like that for six-seven years now…" Boxer nodded, barely able to keep a smirk off his lips. "Is it a bad one?"

"Sling. Icepack…" Jack scowled at his buddy, "You do the math…"

"Well, did you fix it at home or?"

"Made a visit to ol' Doc Harper…" Nick shrugged, "His shoulder just wouldn't get back in easily today…"

"How did you even mess it up that bad?"

"Obviously messed it up in the fall…" Jack drawled, "And then it slid out when I tried to open the door."

Mr. Casey felt a little bit sorry for the unruly Dalton twin, he had to admit that. Opening the book again he got out an eraser and erased the two marks he had left by Jack and Nick's names.

 **Okay. I know this was short… But… Yeah…**


End file.
